Know Why the Nightingale Sings
by Fallon-Idalia
Summary: They've been dancing around each other for too long, shooting glances that could only mean one thing and Brynjolf is losing his patience with the entire game. But can they overcome their fears and embrace what they both desire?
1. Impatience

****Disclaimer: ****Alas, I do not own the Skyrim universe. Characters you do not recognize are mine and were created by me for the purposes of this story. Rated M for a reason!

I deleted the original "Know Why the Nightingale Sings" because there was just something about it that was not sitting right with me. I took it down, took a huge step back to do some serious brainstorming, and decided to give it another go! I think I just didn't find it unique enough and felt I was merely retelling the story as it occurred in game. The task of picking through each chapter would have meant major cosmetic surgery, so I removed it to work on it properly. I hope this rendition is to your liking :) I am very sorry to those who went "WTF" when I took it down, I will try to make it up to you with this! Thank you for reading, and for any and all reviews left! – Fallon.

**Chapter One**

Brynjolf stood outside her door, arguing inwardly with himself about whether it was wise to proceed. She would surely be home, of that he had no doubt, but he feared what confronting her would mean for them.

They had been dancing around each other for months, shooting each other glances and flirtatious comments that went unnoticed by other in the Guild...for the most part. Delvin had approached him about it a few times, asking if there was anything going on between him and the newest member of their organization, but Brynjolf had always said no.

Mixing feelings with work always went sour, especially in his line of work. He had seen it numerous times, thieves walking into desire with the eagerness of awkward youths only to crumble when their partner died executing a job or running from the guards. Brynjolf had always thought them foolish for walking into such an obvious trap...until he found her.

* * *

><p><em>Brynjolf smiled at the crowd as he presented them with his latest miracle remedy. What the bottles contained was nothing more than watered down health potions and a splash of mead, but he figured what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. After all, it was their gullibility not anything on his part that sucked them in. He was only taking their coin, others would opt for taking their lives. <em>

"_Gather around, ladies and gentlemen! Behold the latest miracle that will change your lives!" He bellowed as the people crowded closer._

_He always walked away with a pocket full of gold, and Delvin was always there to pickpocket those not foolish enough to purchase the item he offered. _

"_For a mere fifty septims, you could be cured of any and all illnesses currently ailing you! Don't be afraid, you can not put a price on your health!"_

_People in the crowd nodded as he said that, and Brynjolf knew then he had some people hooked. As he continued spewing meaningless promises to people all to eager to hear them, he spotted one woman standing off to the side near the well with a look on her face that told him she was less than pleased._

_She wore the robes of a monk, and yet the spark in her eyes told him she was something far more unique than a Divine-pushing puppet like Maramel. Dark brown curls framed her face and her blue eyes were fierce like the ocean during a storm. Her beauty was striking, and yet he seemed to be the only one who noticed her._

_He finished his presentation and accepted the pouches of coin extended to him with a polite smile. He handed each a bottle of the weak mixture he had concocted and pocketed the gold. His organization had fallen on hard times, and every piece of gold he had earned in the market today would help keep them going a little longer._

_Just as he was about to pack up his stall for the day, a small hand grasped his shoulder. When he looked behind him, he saw the striking woman from before. She was considerably more petite than he realized, which made the firmness of her hold all the more startling._

_She released his shoulder and scowled at him, "Give me one reason not to summon the guards, thief."_

_He grinned, "You've got sharp eyes, lass."_

"_And an even sharper blade," she spat quickly, "now...give me a reason."_

"_You've already got one," he whispered, "it's the very reason why you have yet to call the guards on me and reveal my scheme."_

_Curious, the Breton woman humoured the thief, "And what is that?"_

"_You want a piece of the action...a share of the wealth."_

_Her face soured, "I have no interest in exploiting people, thief. That is your business, but not mine."_

"_Face it, you're interested, lass."_

"_You are mistaken."_

_He leaned in closer, "Then call the guards right now, there is no sense wasting any more of your time if becoming wealthy is not a part of your life plan."_

"_There are honest ways of making coin," she countered, though her voice lacked the venom her previous words had contained._

"_True," he admitted, "but none that give you a rush like this. It's better than the first sip of a fine wine, and lasts far longer. So, are you going to call the guards?"_

_The woman took a step back and thought for a moment. Her eyes were on the ground, but he still found something overwhelming about her presence. _

"_Leave...before I change my mind."_

_Brynjolf smirked and turned to leave, but stopped, "Steal something, lass, anything and when you do meet me in the Ratways...if you find the rush to your liking that is."_

_She rolled her eyes, "Do not hold your breath."_

_He laughed, "Pray tell me, what is your name? If I am never to see you again, I should like to at least know who exactly refrained from singing a song to the guards."_

_The woman looked up at him, her eyes somewhat softer, "Simone Liric."_

* * *

><p>Finally, he brought his hand up and knocked twice on the door. It was a quite night in Riften, and his knocks carried down the ally. Despite his best efforts to remain as quite as possible, his eagerness to see her was strong.<p>

Together, they were two parts of the trinity of Nightingales sworn to protect the shrine to Nocturnal and her Skeleton Key. Brynjolf had fought beside Simone on many occasions, but the fight to stop Mercer was by far the most intense of them all.

She had engaged Mercer Frey in battle on her own, matching the Guild Master's swings blow for blow. He had betrayed her, left her to die in a ruin in the northern most reaches of Skyrim, so her reasons for wanting him dead were great.

The door opened and Simone greeted him with a sleepy smile.

"I'm sorry to wake you," he said quickly, "may I come in?"

She stepped aside without a questioning word as to why he was pestering her at such a late hour and allowed him into her home.

Honeyside had been the first large purchase she had made for herself when she joined the Guild. It was a fair sized home just across the way from the inn, and though he had passed it many times he had never seen inside it until now. It was dressed with rich tapestries and bookcases filled to capacity. There was a map of Skyrim rolled out on the desk, and various markers had been placed over it. Just past the sitting area he saw her bed through the parted drapes that had been added to provide privacy.

"What's troubling you, Brynjolf?"

He turned to face her and swallowed hard.

She was clad in a thin nightgown instead of her usual Guild issued armour. Her hair was down, spilling over her breasts and her face had been washed clean of war paint. Though he had seen her in less clothing before, she seemed so at ease. He knew it had taken her a while to fully trust him, and he didn't hold that against her, but seeing her now made him realize how comfortable she was with letting him close. It felt good, like having a real friend.

She noticed the bizarre look he was giving her. "Bryn?"

He quickly gathered himself, "Sorry, lass, just not used to seeing you out of the leather."

She chuckled, "I tried sleeping in it once, it was far to abrasive for my liking. Can I offer you something to drink? Water, or mead perhaps?"

"Mead would do nicely," he said with a sigh as he sat near the fire.

Simone fetched two bottles from a nearby cabinet and handed one to him, "From the look on your face you need an entire bottle to yourself."

Brynjolf grinned, "Ah, you know me to well, lass."

"I suppose I do."

* * *

><p><em>Brynjolf dug his fingers into the soft mud of the shore and heaved himself up. He heard Simone do the same, and saw her fall on to her stomach beside him. <em>

"_That was too close, lass." He stated as he forced himself to his feet, his chest heaving._

_She got to her knees, "Agreed. Next time we should refrain from engaging two dozen guards in a fight over a meaningless silver plated lantern."_

"_The client certainly wants it bad enough," he raised the lantern up for her to see. _

_Weeds from the lake were tangled around it, but it was otherwise unharmed. _

"_They had better be paying well is all I'm saying," she got to her feet, "I am growing tired of running for my life."_

_He grinned, "Technically we were swimming, lass."_

_She grumbled as she pushed past him, "Smart ass."_

_They set up camp further into the woods in a small cave that jutted out of the earth. A fire was made quickly, and Brynjolf managed to snare some rabbits in a quickly made trap. He was preparing them for the fire when Simone started to undress._

_He eyed her curiously, "Just what are you doing, lass?"_

_She tossed her bracers on the ground near the fire, "I need to dry the leather before its ruined or I catch hypothermia."_

_He chuckled, "And here I thought you had lost your mind..."_

"_Your lack of faith in me is startling, Bryn!"_

_Soon enough both of their armour was drying on the stones around their fire, and they were left sitting in their underclothes. As much as he enjoyed teasing her, he was a gentleman, so it was difficult to keep his gaze from her. The breast band she wore pushed her chest up tightly and accentuated her assets in ways he never thought he'd see._

"_You're pretty quite for a man who has a half naked woman all to yourself," she said with a lighthearted chuckle. _

_He grinned, "Never was one for taking advantage of a crazy woman."_

_She lobbed a stone at him and raised her hand in triumph as it pegged him in the chest, "Serves you right!"_

_Brynjolf smiled, but rubbed the red mark on his chest firmly, "I realize I know little about you, Simone. About where you came from, I mean."_

"_I'm not drunk enough to talk about that," she hugged her knees to her chest for added warmth._

"_I didn't mean to pry," he said gently, "you're just the first thief I've met who's story I am actually interested in hearing."_

_She smiled, "Flatterer."_

_He shrugged but did not deny it._

_Simone sighed, "Alright then, what do you want to know?"_

"_What city are you from?"_

"_Whiterun," she said quickly, "You?"_

"_Riften."_

_She smiled, "You must like it there then."_

"_I hate it," he confessed, "but I'm the one asking questions here, lass."_

_Simone nodded for him to continue._

"_Did you enjoy your childhood there?"_

_She arched her eyebrow in curiosity._

"_Indulge me."_

"_It was fine, I guess," she shrugged, "my father raised me after my mother died when I was a babe. He taught me how to wield a blade and bow. He was a Companion so I spent most of my time at Jorrvaskr with the warriors. He went on a mission when I was ten and never came back. When he died, I was taken in by the priestesses at the Temple of Kynareth. Danica took care of me, showed me how to heal people of their illnesses and set broken bones."_

"_This woman must be dear to you. Why did you leave?"_

_Simone sighed, "I was smothered inside those walls. Still...I could not bring myself to say goodbye to her, so I didn't. I just left her a note and jumped on the next carriage leaving the city. I wanted something more, a purpose to drive me."_

"_Like the rush of thievery?"_

_She laughed, recalling their first encounter, "Exactly. It came around at the right time really, I was going to leave Riften that day to try my luck in Winterhold at the College. What about you, what was Riften like when you were a boy?"_

_Brynjolf snorted at the memory, "Better than it is now, but I was an orphan in Honorhall so it was hell for me."_

_Her eyes opened wide and she proceeded gently, "How did you end up there, Bryn?"_

_He had never told anyone the story, so he had to think for a moment as to the best way to give it words. It was many years ago of course, but it had been pushed back into a corner of his mind and took a while to come forward._

"_I grew up in a farm about three hours by carriage from Riften. My mother and father were good people, I remember, but we had a few harsh seasons and they accepted loans from the wrong people in order to feed me and my siblings. They caught my younger brother first, beat him so badly he died two days later of his injuries. Then they snatched my older sister as she was picking berries in the field next to our home. They abused her for a week before they let her return to us, but she killed herself the next day out of shame. My parents were next to fall. My mother by her own hand and my father in the act of murdering those who had stolen his family from him. I was left alone."_

_Silence hung between them and a gust of wind from the mouth of the cave made the fire dance. _

"_Brynjolf...I'm so sorry. I know it changes nothing..." she locked onto his gaze, "but I truly am."_

_He smiled weakly, "Can't change the past, lass...but thank you."_

* * *

><p>"Why did you come?" Simone asked quickly, the crackle of the fire louder than her voice, "If there is something wrong, tell me and we can deal with the incompetent idiot causing trouble."<p>

He laughed, "And what makes you think that is the source of my problem?"

Simone shrugged and took a sip of her mead, "It's been a while since we spoke of something not related to the Guild."

It was true, things had moved quickly since Mercer had been discovered and neither of them had had a chance to sit back and talk in what seemed like a very long time. On numerous occasions they would share a table at the Flagon and speak openly of whatever was on their mind. They had told stories of their lives before the Guild, discussed the Civil War...and sometimes poked fun a Vekel when he tried to mop up the puddle of spilt ale at their feet.

"I suppose my problem is connected to the Guild...at least to a person in it."

"Did you want me to have a thorn in your side removed?" Simone asked bluntly.

Since becoming the Guild Master, she certainly had the authority to make such moves, but he'd never ask her to use her rank to help him advance. He was content being her second-in-command, her right hand man. Not only did he know the job well, but being so close to her ensured he knew she was protected.

"It's not like that, lass..."

Simone leaned back and arched an eyebrow as she pondered what could bind his tongue so tightly, "Are you sleeping with Vex, Brynjolf?"

"What? Gods, no, lass!"

Vex, if the rumours were to be believed, was as vicious under the sheets as she was on a mission. Delvin had spoken with some of those lucky enough to walk away from her bedroom with their skin attached, and the stories had spread through the Guild from there.

She chuckled, "Calm down and speak openly with me and my mind won't jump to such conclusions!"

Brynjolf sighed and leaned forward to hold his head in his hands, "Do you remember what I said to you when you returned to the Guild with Karliah? After everyone else had left?"

* * *

><p><em>Brynjolf stalked after her as she left the Cistern and headed for her bed tucked off in the corner. Everyone else was filtering into the Flagon, but he had to take the opportunity to speak to her before he went mad. She began rooting through the chest at the foot of the bed, tossing potions and bizarre looking ingredients on the bed. <em>

"_Simone..."_

_She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, "Hey there, Bryn."_

"_Gods...I thought you were dead."_

_Simone stood and began stuffing the items into her pack, "I'm sorry. I wanted to send you a note, an encrypted one, but Karliah insisted the risk Mercer would stumble upon it was too great."_

_He hung his head, and was surprised when he felt her hand upon his chest. Her palm pressed flat over his heart, what surprised him more was that he had not reacted violently to the intrusion into his personal space. _

_She moved her hand up to his shoulder, clasping it in a reassuring manner, "I'm stubborn, Brynjolf, far too much to be killed so easily."_

"_Even the most stubborn can feel pain..." Brynjolf muttered in a morose manner that was unlike him._

_Simone caught it and was left confused, "What are you saying?"_

"_That I...am sorry you were alone to face that," he cleared his throat, "I wish I could have been there to spare you from what he did. And...I'm glad you came back, things would be far too...different here without you."_

_She smiled and he suddenly felt uncomfortably warm._

"_You know...under that gruff exterior you're a pretty good person, Bryn."_


	2. Wise Men & Fools

****Disclaimer:****I do not own the Skyrim universe. Characters you do not recognize are mine and were created by me for the purposes of this story. Rated M for a reason!

I deleted the original "Know Why the Nightingale Sings" because there was just something about it that was not sitting right with me. I took it down, took a huge step back to do some serious brainstorming, and decided to give it another go! I think I just didn't find it unique enough and felt I was merely retelling the story as it occurred in game. I hope this rendition is to your liking :) Thank you for reading, and for all reviews left! – Fallon.

**Chapter Two**

"_What does the free fall feel like? Asks the boy with a spark in his eye, know why the nightingale sings, is the answer to everything...I swear the heaven's in my reach..." - Nightwish "Know Why the Nightingale Sings"_

"Yes," Simone said with a small smile, "I remember that."

Brynjolf tried to chug his mead faster, so as to get the courage to speak what he knew he had to. Putting off speaking to her was killing him, eating him away slowly from the inside out like a disease. If nothing else, he had to be rid of the tightness in his chest and the longing in both his heart and his loins. Should she reject him, he would at least feel free to seek release elsewhere. Since meeting her he felt like a horse with blinders, unable to see anyone save the person standing before him.

"It hurt, lass." Brynjolf stared of into the fire, "I put on a face for the others, but I didn't know how we were going to go on without you...how I was going to go on without you."

Simone leaned forward in her chair and grasped his hand, "Bryn..."

"I don't understand it, Simone."

His use of her name caught her off guard, "What, Brynjolf?"

He looked up at her, his green eyes made even more intense by the light of the fire, "This bloody hold you have on me."

* * *

><p><em>He laid in bed, the limp arm of his lover draped over his chest. The inn was quiet, as most of it's patrons were passed out drunk, but that wouldn't stop Brynjolf from leaving before the whore woke up. <em>

_She was pretty, which is why he had agreed to pay her sizable fee, but that was about all she had going for her. Well...that and a vast knowledge of techniques on how to please a man. As the newest and youngest member of the Thieves Guild, Brynjolf was eager to spend his hard earned coin on the finest things life had to offer. Weapons, ale, women...he pursued the best. _

_Gallus warned him numerous times not to let it get out of control, but time and time again Brynjolf assured him he knew what he was doing. _

_His past as proof, Brynjolf knew life was short and he was determined to live it to its fullest before he met his end. He had no plans to settle down or start a family like some of those he knew, and he could not see a future beyond the moment he was living. _

_He glanced to the woman beside him. She was probably only a few years older then himself, but life had clearly been unkind to her as her face looked exhausted, even in sleep. After the second bottle of mead he had shared with her, she confessed to him much of her story. How she was married off at a young age to an abusive drunk, and how she had run away in order to start a new life only to be taken for a fool by a man she loved. After getting released from jail, she was penniless and starving. That was when she started using her body to make coin. _

_She was the perfect example of the second lesson life had taught him – never let anyone close. His time in the Guild had only made that clearer, as many up and coming pickpockets were picked off every week by their "friends" as they scrambled to climb the ranks. Brynjolf, from the safety of the shadows, had seen husbands betray wives, parents abandon their children and wise men become fools. _

_He had spent a life time watching the destruction misplaced trust brought people, and as he slipped into his trousers and began searching for the rest of his clothes he swore to himself that he would never been taken for a fool._

* * *

><p>To his surprise, she didn't flinch, she didn't so much as gasp. There was a warmth in her eyes he had not seen in anyone else in his years in Riften, an empathy he both admired and found frustrating. She had grown a lot since that day when fate brought them together in the market. Her anger had faded into nothingness and she had been able to trust not only him, but their fellow Guild mates. She was still as feisty as a mother bear protecting her cubs when someone crossed her, but she was the first to congratulate someone when they netted a good haul and often bought rounds for them in the Flagon. In truth, she was the one person who did not seem corrupted by the gold that passed through her hands or the newly acquired authority she now had over them.<p>

It was what made her a damned fine leader, and a trusted confidant.

When she said nothing, he continued, "I've tried to ignore it, Divines know I have, but I don't want to anymore. I can't give it a name, what I feel for you, but it's so intense I'm not quite sure where it will lead us, lass."

Simone rose from her chair and stood before him. She brushed her hair over her shoulders and bit her lip as his eyes met hers. She was tired of their game, tired of dodging him and the happiness she knew deep down he offered. Throughout her entire life she had tried to be a good, decent person who never asked for anything.

He was the one thing she wanted to the point of madness.

Spurred on by his words and her bubbling desire, she hiked up her nightgown and straddled him.

"S-Simone?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in so her lips hovered over his, "I'm so very tired of running from this, Bryn."

On the edge of control, he ran his hands up her back and pulled her closer to him. His breath danced across her neck and elicited a shiver from her.

"You are worth the chase," he whispered before kissing her neck, "gods...so worth the chase."

* * *

><p><em>Simone approached him as he sat alone in the Flagon. It was late at night, and even the most dedicated of drinkers were fast asleep in the Cistern.<em>

_He had his back to her, but she was not foolish enough to think he hadn't sensed her presence. After all, he had been a thief for longer than she had been alive and his skills were sharp. Unlike the others though, he never bragged or flaunted his talents, never made bets with the others about who would bring in the most profitable haul. She respected that about him, probably more so than his actual talents as a thief. _

"_Good evening, lass." _

_She smiled as she sat down across from him, "You're up late."_

"_As are you," he pointed out as he took a swig of his tankard. _

_She shrugged, "Nightmares."_

"_Same," he said solemnly, "Do you think Vaermina is toying with us?"_

_Simone knew the deity he was speaking of well, having foiled her attempt to destroy Dawnstar with her corruption. Vaermina was the daedric prince of dreams and nightmares, and presided over a realm where evil omens issued forth into the realm of man. _

"_I think everyone is visited by nightmares once and a while. It is when the nightmare follows you into the land of the waking that Vaermina is to blame." She snatched his tankard and stole a sip. _

_He considered what she said, but his expression told her he was not convinced. _

"_But what if the same nightmare follows you throughout your life?"_

_She handed the tankard back to him, "Perhaps it means you are to learn something of the dream then. Vaermina is too creative in her manipulations to make the exact same nightmare plague you."_

"_You may have a valid point there," Brynjolf admitted, "but what if it is a lesson you...need more time to learn?"_

"_Depends on the lesson."_

"_Trust," he looked away from her, "it is the one thing I've tried to avoid placing in another."_

_She rested her elbows on the table, "Do you not trust our friends in the Cistern?"_

"_They are fun to drink with, but would climb over my corpse for the right motivation."_

_She supposed he had a good point. Regardless of how kind they were, they were just as motivated by gold and power as the next person – herself included. And though she knew her desire for coin had its limits, such as murder, she wasn't so naive to think they all followed that principle._

"_Do you trust me?" Simone asked quietly, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer._

_Brynjolf sighed, "Yes."_

_She tried to contain her relief, but felt a ghost of a grin blossom on her lips, "Then why is this troubling you so?" _

_Brynjolf ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to tell her, but feared offending her. She meant a great deal to him. Not only did he respect and trust her, but he felt the same coming from her. Beyond that, he had fantasized numerous times about what treasures she hid under her leather Guild armour, about how soft her skin would be under his calloused hands. _

_Curiously enough, she held a beauty that for some reason the other men in the Guild did not seem to notice._

_On one occasion he had spoken to Delvin about her over a drink, but the master of sneak confessed that he did not see what Brynjolf did. Delvin said she seemed too soft, and that women like Vex were more to his liking. Brynjolf still did not understand Delvin's strange reasoning. _

_It made him think that she was a gift from the gods meant only for him, and the idea scared him as much as it excited him._

"_Because life has taught me that that can be dangerous." He said in a soft tone, hoping to lessen the harshness of his words._

_Simone did not seem offended, much to his relief._

_She rested her chin on the heel of her hand, "I think it is in our nature to want to trust someone, to have at least one person in our lives we know will always have our back and not turn on us when we make a mistake. You've nothing to be ashamed of in desiring that, but I certainly understand your reservations. I assure you though, there is no part of me that wishes to harm you, Brynjolf."_

_The tension lifted from his body and he knew it wasn't because of the mead._

_He smiled and offered her another sip from his tankard, "That is very...refreshing to hear, lass."_


	3. Leap of Faith

****Disclaimer:****I do not own the Skyrim universe. Characters you do not recognize are mine and were created by me for the purposes of this story. Rated M for a reason!

I deleted the original "Know Why the Nightingale Sings" because there was just something about it that was not sitting right with me. I am much happier with this rendition, so I really hope it is to your liking as well :) It is shorter than the original, but it has more of what I felt the other one was lacking. Thank you for reading, and for all reviews left! – Fallon.

**Chapter Three**

"_My soul has finally found peace, Doesn't matter that man has no wings, As long as I hear the nightingale sing..." - Nightwish "Know Why the Nightingale Sings"_

He grabbed her chin and brought her lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that was searing with heat and unrelenting desire. The softness of his lips coupled with the roughness of his beard scratching her chin made for a breathless feeling Simone adored.

Brynjolf couldn't bring himself to break their kiss as he pawed at the delicate pearl buttons at the back of her nightgown. Having her so close to him after waiting so long made him desperate to explore more of her, this beautiful and loyal thief of his. He sucked on her bottom lip and jerked the fabric apart, splitting it with relative ease.

Simone whimpered into their kiss as his hands roamed over her bare back. The nightgown had been a favourite, but so long as he continued to touch her she was fairly certain she could find it in her heart to forgive him.

* * *

><p><em>She watched him from afar, being sure to keep to the shadows to avoid being seen. A mission for the Guild did not bring her to the market on this quite afternoon, nay, her motives were far more selfish.<em>

_Brynjolf..._

_Simone watched from her hiding spot as he began to work his charms on another group of naive fools looking to purchase a miracle in a bottle. He wore his expensive blue tailored clothes, and his hair was clean and devoid of its usual tangles. He commanded the audience with the same confidence he had showed the first time they had met. She was just as captivated by him as any of the poor fools he currently held under his spell, perhaps even more so. _

_On numerous occasions she had fantasized about that voice, about how it could make her melt with honeyed words in the heat of passion. The thought of him whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he ravished her...it had kept her awake many a times, though she would never complain about that fact._

_Brynjolf..._

_For a second she swore his eyes met hers, that he had seen her from her cloak of shadow she was currently shrouded in, but after a few tense moments she concluded that she was losing her mind._

_He haunted her like a ghost, in both sleep and waking moments, and being near him gave her a feeling of such contentment she had wondered on more than one occasion if she was drunk. _

_Drunk...that's what she was, drunk on the very thought of him._

_The thought did not upset her though. A devoted fan of San's Spiced Wine, she knew she could easily give it all up to have him to satisfy her cravings. _

_Brynjolf..._

_He understood her, appreciated her, and most importantly he never judged her._

_But she knew she wasn't blessed by fate with enough luck to catch his fancy. Misfortune, after all, had hounded her for years since she left the safety of Whiterun. Alas, she would have to settle with her spiced wine and her vivid fantasies. _

_She groaned in frustration. _

_For another perhaps that would be enough, but Simone wanted the real thing – she wanted him. _

* * *

><p>He slowly traced a jagged scar down the length of her spine and gave her posterior an appreciative grasp that made her moan and push down against his hands.<p>

Her moan made his loins tighten and he stood, hoisting her up with him, and took her to the bed. Simone peppered his neck with kisses until they reached their destination and he tossed her down unceremoniously onto the large, richly detailed bed.

She immediately felt the loss of his warmth, and looked at him with sad eyes.

He closed the curtains behind them, not wanting to chance unwanted eyes to venture up to the main level of the house and catch a glimpse of his woman, and returned to the foot of the bed. Spread out like she was, her nightgown ripped and hiked up to her thighs, made him nearly frenzied with need. Though little words had been said, he wanted her as his and his alone. That feeling was new to him, but as much as it startled him he did not feel inclined to ignore it.

She purred as he climbed onto the bed and loomed over her, his hair tickling the tops of her breasts as he passed.

"You're so beautiful, lass..."

She gasped as he began tugging the nightgown down over her shoulders, "Wanted this for a long time...haven't you?"

He paused to look her in the eye, "I want you, I need you..."

She smiled and cupped his cheek, "Then do not make me wait any longer, Brynjolf...that's an order."

Her eyes locked onto his and revealed the same heat he felt himself.

Brynjolf kissed her lips, "I need you out of this damned clothing."

A few more needy tugs, and she was bare before him. Brynjolf licked the curve of her neck before nipping her playfully and tossing the remains of her nightgown aside. He pulled her into his arms and ran his calloused fingers down and over her breasts, groaning as he did so.

Simone arched her back, frustrated by the feather light touch, "You tease..."

He pinched her nipples tightly between his fingers and grinned as she gasped, "Better?"

She nodded quickly, the huskiness of his voice and the neediness of his touch driving her wild.

Brynjolf propped himself up on his elbow to watch her. Her skin was pale and covered in scars, many of which were rough and jagged. The older ones were almost stark white, and crisscrossed over her stomach and thighs in layers. The longest one ran from her shoulder and ended at the swell of her breasts. It was thin, but considering its location would have taken time to heal properly and without warping her flesh.

When his fingers ran over it, Simone's eyes shot open.

"Gift from a bandit during my first year on my own," she explained quietly, "I returned the favour by roasting him alive."

Brynjolf grinned and flicked his tongue over her nipple, "You are lovely regardless of them, lass."

Smiling, she grasped his shoulders and pushed him back, "Allow me to see yours, so that we might even the score."

He allowed her to push him onto his back and bit back a moan as she began fumbling with his belt, "I wasn't aware the score was being kept..."

Simone slipped her hand under his trousers and grasped his cock, eliciting a strangled whimper from the Nord. But as suddenly as her hand touched him, it was removed. He looked at her with pained eyes and she merely smirked.

_Little minx..._

Knowing what she wanted, Brynjolf sat up enough to shrug out of his shirt. She pushed him back as soon as he was rid of the offending fabric and ran her fingers through the tight red curls that ran down the center of his chest. His stomach tensed under her light touch, as if her fingers were sending sparks of magic through his body.

His head was spinning.

_Simone..._

She straddled him, not nervous in the least about him seeing her in such an exposed state, and leaned down to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

Brynjolf was content having her atop him, and made no move to assert his dominance by pinning her under him. Perched atop him as she was, she was as strong and alluring as he always knew her to be, and he did not want to deprive himself of seeing her in her glory.

Simone bit her lip and eased his trousers down enough to free him from the confines of the fabric. The tip of his cock brushed against her womanhood and she jumped at the contact. The warmth that shot through her lower body was intense, and she had to reel herself back lest she give in so easily to her desires. Brynjolf wanted this as badly as she did, that was crystal clear, but she did not want to make it easy for him.

"Gods, lass..." He groaned as he arched his back and raised his hips, "Have mercy..."

She shook her head and grabbed his wrists and raised them up, pinning them down just above his head. He could easily break free of course, she was considerably smaller than he, but she could tell by the glimmer in his eyes that he liked her show of dominance. Very much enjoying the control she had over him, Simone pressed her hips down and began rubbing her slick folds against his shaft in slow, short movements.

Brynjolf trembled, but did not try to fight her hold.

Simone chuckled and rolled her head back as she nibbled on the corner of her lips, "I don't know why I ran for so long..."

His hips jerked up of their own accord and he hissed as she lifted her hips away from him, "Because...you were just as afraid of this as I was."

She smiled and looked down at him, "I'm still afraid."

"So am I," he admitted in his heavy accent, "but something this perfect can not be bad, can't it, lass?"

_So perfect, Bryn..._

Simone tightened her hold on his arms and began to sink down onto his shaft, her soft walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

"I...I...Bryn..."

His eyes fell from her face to the heat between them, and he watched as he slowly became sheathed inside her.

Brynjolf could not believe the grip she had on him, "S-Simone...gods!"

She whimpered as he filled her and rocked her hips against him, loving every spark of heat he sent flaring through her body. She released her hold on his arms, and braced herself by planting the heels of her hands on his chest before she began riding him in desperate, quick motions.

He grasped her hips and dug his nails into her flesh, causing her to wince but doing nothing to slow her frantic rhythm. Not bothering to take the time to be gentle, he pushed her down on him, adding an entire blissful new level of friction that made her mewl in delight.

Brynjolf groaned, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Sing for me...my little nightingale..."

Simone fell forward, a hand on either side of his head, "B-Brynjolf..."

"Let it...go."

Her breasts swayed in time with the jerking of her hips, and he roughly groped them, pinching her nipples so hard she let out a soft squeak. It was his lips on her sore nipples sent her cascading over the edge, and she shook violently atop him as her climax rippled through her body in suffocating waves.

Brynjolf sighed as she went limp on him, but did not allow her more than a moment to recover. With one motion, he had her on her back and was thrusting erratically into her. Simone wrapped her legs weakly around him, sapped of energy but not wanting him to stop.

His lips latched on to her neck, she knew he was getting close himself.

She raked her nails up his back as she made sounds she wasn't aware she was capable of making. She had run from him for so long, watched him from a far and wondered if fate could be so kind, that the reality of their actual coupling made her want to weep for joy.

Brynjolf nipped her ear lobe and whispered in a rough voice, "My...my Simone...my nightingale."

She held him close, her legs keeping him from pulling out, "Yours..."

His thrust became shallow and rough.

Simone found his lips, and kissed him deeply as he spent himself inside of her.

* * *

><p>"<em>Papa?"<em>

_Her father had a warm smile on his lips and a tankard of ale in his hand, "Yes, Simone?" _

"_Did you love mama?"_

"_With all my being." He said without a moments hesitation. _

_She looked up at him with wide eyes, "How did you know?"_

_He thought for a moment, searching for a way to explain it so she would hopefully understand, "She accepted me for who I was, made me feel like I was invincible. It was like we spoke our own language. We understood each other better than anyone else ever could. Meeting her...was the best thing that could have happened to me. She gave me you, brought joy into my life."_

_Simone titled her head, "Weren't you scared?"_

"_Of what, dearest one?"_

_She shrugged, "Of feelings that big? It sounds scary, sounds like walking into a dark room...and I'm afraid of the dark, Papa."_

_He chuckled, "It's a lot like walking into the dark, dearest. But when you find someone worth taking that chance, you've got to take it."_

_She twisted the hem of her dress in her fingers, "I don't understand, Papa..."_

_He sat aside his tankard and knelt before her, "You don't have to, not yet. Just promise me you won't be afraid to leap forward when you're faced with darkness. I promise you it isn't as scary as you think."_

_Smiling, Simone wrapped her tiny arms around her father and inhaled the familiar scent of ale and smoke of the forge that clung to him. She trusted him, despite her lingering fears of darkness. If he said it was all right, she would take him at his word._

_After all, her father was the wisest man in the whole of Skyrim._

"_I love you, Papa."_

_He grinned, "I love you, my dearest one."_

* * *

><p>Brynjolf held her in his arms, a thin blanket covering them both.<p>

The sweat on her brow had begun to dry and the flush in her cheeks was beginning to recede, but to him she was still so beautiful.

Her eyes fluttered open and she kissed his chest, "Thank you for staying."

He squeezed her close, "Why would I leave, lass?"

Simone glanced away and shrugged, "Thought maybe this would scare you away."

Brynjolf placed his hand over hers, "Whatever this is, whatever we've found in one another, I'm not going anywhere lass, I'm here so long as you'll have me."

She exhaled slowly and rested her leg over his. Relaxed in his arms in the after glow of their love, she felt truly safe and at ease for the first time since leaving Whiterun and her old life behind. It was like all of the trials in her life had lined up, and somehow everything was going to be all right.

_This must be love..._

She moved up on the bed so they were eye to eye.

"I'd like it if you stayed." Simone confessed softly, her eyes reflecting how much she cared for him and making him see the sincerity of her words.

Brynjolf lightly kissed her lips and watched as she melted away to sleep next to him.

As he watched her, a loving smile spreading over his lips, he wondered if this was what being a fool felt like.

Just as that though crossed his mind, she snuggled closer to him and made a strange sound he could only identify as purring.

Brynjolf kissed the top of her head.

_If I am a fool...then so be it. I am the fool, and she is my Nightingale._


End file.
